So, I'll bet a whole lot of y'all here remember the fad of all those WWJD bracelets that lots of people were wearing back in the 1990's. WWJD – What Would Jesus Do? These bracelets tended to be worn by teens and young adults and were seen mostly at Christian youth gatherings, and like most things in our youth-loving American society, they soon grew over-used, going from a sincere reminder to the wearer to think about how their actions affect the world and their own spiritual life to being an object of ridicule and stereotyping a certain brand of Christianity.
In fact, one of my mentors – and many of y'all will remember her – one of my mentors, Suzanne Smitherman once gave me an Anglican WWJD bracelet. It said:
WDYTJMHDIAGSROLAFHBAODFTHC? Or What Do You Think Jesus Might Have Done In A Given Situation Recognizing Our Limitations As Finite Human Beings And Our Distance From The Historical Context?
And for Episcopalians, being who we are, these are pretty good words to live by. We pride ourselves on our reasoning skills, and we should. We encourage our questioning nature when it comes to things spiritual, and that's good. But what exactly was the historical context when Jesus spoke these words in our Gospel reading today?
Well, the context was Romans. Lots and lots of Romans. Romans with their own agenda, and agenda so often antithetical to that of the Jews. Romans who invaded a country that was weak both militarily and politically, taking the established norms and breaking them. Romans that tore down the structures of self-government and replacing it with a theocracy that placed the Emperor in the position of god. Twisting religious practices of Judea, placing idols in the temple, hammering Judaism into something unrecognizable and twisted. Romans that were stripping the land of its wealth and transferring it to a small cabal of Roman oligarchs.
Romans who would sweep into villages, bringing fear into families that just wanted to get by, tearing the men away from their families and shipping them off to other countries to languish as they worked – well, slaved really – for the empire. Romans that brought with them a system of suffering, corruption, extortion, and fear as they assumed the levers of government in this province. Romans who stole the crops of the land and the dignity of the people. Romans whose shifting allegiances with other foreign powers kept the people wondering who they were supposed to hate and who they were supposed to love. Romans who were the enemy, but who made sure that the Jews kept their focus on other oppressed people, convincing them that enemies were all around and NOT where they really were.
That is the context.
Fortunately, and let's face it, we are fortunate here...fortunately, we here in this place, in this time, in Central New York, only have to deal “enemies” on a mainly theoretical basis. Though, I suppose, after that hockey game on Thursday, the Canadians are sizing us up.
But as far as I know, I don’t really need to sleep with one eye open, just in case. I am not on an enemies list...yet. And I don't fear retribution from anyone...yet. Enemies, for most of us, are just something we consider mainly on the news or when we're talking to the farmer sitting next to us over breakfast at a diner. Almost fictitious and larger than life.
So when Jesus says that we should love enemies, that doesn’t sound too difficult. I can say I love someone while not really liking that person, right? And voiding them makes it easier not to hate them, and if I don’t hate them, that's a good start.
But just when I have reasoned it and contexted it like my bracelet suggests, and put my 21st Century sensibilities around it, Jesus keeps on throwing monkey wrenches in my contented little explanations and justifications.
“You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be children of your Father in heaven; for he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous. For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? And if you greet only your brothers and sisters, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the Gentiles do the same?”
Hmm. Avoidance doesn’t seem to be an option with Jesus. And it's harder than any bracelet would suggest. Especially now the political and social upheaval we are undergoing as a nation and a world, as the ground shifts under our feet and we wake up each day, wondering, “Oh, no, what's happened now?”
These last few years, differences between people and groups, between parties and politicians, between family members, between friends, these differences have all be exacerbated to keep us at each other's throats. And we have created hatred where it didn’t exist before. It seems like there are people all around me that want me to strike and stomp and belittle others. And while I hope that I still don’t wish anyone harm, I often find myself disagreeing with some public statements of acquaintances and politicians and groups to the point that I strike back!
Ok, well, I don't actually strike them. But I DO unfriend them. Defriend them. Delete them. No more. Good bye. You are dead to me.
I mean, what else can I do? What should I do?
What would Jesus do?
He does it whenever he gets away from the crowds. He does it as he preaches. He does it when he eats with his friends and disciples. He does it in the garden before he dies. He does it from the cross.
Pray. I'm called on to pray. And I invite you to join me in this. I think with Lent coming up, as we begin to reflect on our relationship with God and with each other, as we take in all that is happening to us in our nation and in our world, as we fall to the temptation to feel helpless, that maybe that's what we can do. Maybe that's where we need to be. In a place of prayer. Praying when we have a moment, making moments when we'd rather be doing something else. Praying.
Not just for the things we want to see happen in the areas of love and peace and justice, but for the people with whom we so deeply disagree. Praying for people who scare us. Praying for people whose actions against others make me so angry that I want to give them the opportunity to turn the other cheek! Praying for those who treat others as objects. Praying for those who abuse others. Praying for those who humiliate others. Praying for people who sell others. Praying for people who withhold justice and dignity and respect from others. Praying for those who infect others with that same hatred and violence and callousness.
Because praying for them is so much more difficult than just not-hating them. “Not-hatiing” is passive; prayer is far more active.
Now to be honest, and this may shock some of you, but I don’t know that prayer will “change their hearts,” but I do believe it will likely change ours. When we pray for someone, we start to see that person as I imagine God does: as a flawed human being made in God’s image. Just like us.
And praying may just cause us to see in ourselves some of those awful things we see in others. Praying may just cause us to recognize and own up to those times we've spread injustice and hatred, selfishness and callousness, those times when we've belittled and berated and hurt and brought pain into the world. Or at least those times when we just stood by and did nothing.
Praying, I think, will open us to work harder for God's kingdom. It will open us to give a little more. It will open us to walk with others in their journey. It will also likely make our hearts just a little softer.
For the next next few weeks, let's bring into prayer those with whom we disagree and those who seem filled with hate and those who seem to be working against everything we hold dear.
And I believe those prayers will change things. They may not change the world, but they will change us. And in that changing, we will be working toward completion. We will be striving, bit by bit, to be perfect, as our Father in heaven is perfect. And that's worth praying for.
Amen